


Remembrance

by roeru



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Angst, End of the World, Gen, Made up Historical details, Reincarnation, World War 3, first person POV
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-06
Updated: 2016-03-06
Packaged: 2018-05-25 03:09:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,287
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6177808
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/roeru/pseuds/roeru
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hello, my name is England. Well, for now, it’s still England. I’m dying, you see.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Remembrance

**Author's Note:**

> This is not proofread so forgive me for the mistakes. I wrote this in an hour so yeah--

Hello, my name is England. Well, for now, it’s still England. I’m dying, you see.

Haha, no, I’m not scared of dying. Existing for centuries completely dissolved the fear of death in my soul. I know I’ve lived enough. I survived plagues, wars, and colonizations. Death itself doesn’t frighten me.

What I’m dearly afraid of is the fate of what I will leave behind. My citizens will become refugees because my government is failing. They could not support the people any longer.

It was because I’ve gotten tired. I’m fatally wounded, with my economy and military failing. I couldn't support my people any longer.

My fear is irrational, however. My ability to see magical entities extend to the the ability of seeing and hearing the already departed-- the fallen nations.

I’ve heard death was only an illusion for a nation. We never really die. We just… Disappear.

How I wish I could stay more. The current war is the most destructive I’ve ever witnessed, a war strong enough to destroy a former empire like myself.

I wish I was strong enough to continue to support the nation who has taken the steering wheel of the world’s future, the nation who has been the one who did all that he could to keep me alive, the nation whom, with tears running down from his ocean blue eyes, I’ve told to let me go-- to let me die for his survival. My former colony, my former brother, my dearest love.

I’m sorry, America… But I really must go.

* * *

 

Hello, I’m Arthur Kirkland and I remember everything. I remember how I died in my previous life, bleeding to death after a massive nuclear airstrike ordered by a former Allied Power ally.

Ever since I was able to process my thoughts after my rebirth, I knew everything.

I remember the world ending when the United States of America completely wrecked the entire world with a nuclear bomb as strong as the asteroid that killed the dinosaurs upon the death of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Ireland at the hands of the People’s Republic of China. Who knew the American superpower would be so devastated by the fall of its apparently most important ally, the other half of the extremely convoluted Special Relationship.

To be honest, I wasn’t sure how to feel about this life.

The world as I know it before the war that wrecked havoc is the world I was reborn to. It has the same history, judging from my history classes in school. The only difference is that country personifications didn’t exist in this world.

I think this is okay. No one needs to know the life of what a country personification goes through.

I just want my America back.

I’ve met every single one that I knew from the previous world. It was so strange that all of us live in the same town, a quiet and quaint town in the cultural pot that was the country of America. All of them remember their previous lives, just like I do. A few of them became my friends, like Antonio, Gilbert and begrudgingly, Francis because they were all my age. There are much older ones, like Kiku, who is much older than they are, already in his late twenties. I’ve seen every single country that I knew in my past life ever since I was reborn.

But I haven’t seen America yet, in my ten years of second existence.

My father left when my mum was pregnant when I was eleven years old. I overheard in their last argument that the baby in my mum’s tummy wasn’t my father’s but that was all I needed to know before I went up to my room and pretended I didn’t hear any of it.

My mum’s tummy grew bigger and bigger and the baby’s father, my step dad, moved in when the baby is already at its sixth months inside mummy. The new dad looked a bit like my own dad, with his blonde hair and all. I like him since he’s smart and likes football like I do. I also noticed that my mummy and my new father got along better than my own dad mum and dad did. It made me feel a bit sad because I am a splitting image of father, what if my mummy loves me less because she reminded me of my dad?

They told me my sibling would be a baby boy. I was nothing but excited. I could tell him about football and we could play together. I wanted him to come to the world sooner.

My mum got rushed to the hospital when she slipped while taking a bath at the end of her eight month in pregnancy. I was at school when it happened so my new dad picked me up before rushing to the hospital. All of us are scared, what if the baby died?

I didn’t want my baby brother to die. Not when he haven't had the chance to live yet, it was unfair. I was given the chance to live two lives, my brother wasn’t even given one.

I prayed while my dad and I were sitting in front of the emergency operation room, the red light lit above the doors bright yet ominous for hours.

The operation is over by the ninth hour mark. It had taken so long because my mum went through labor prematurely to save the baby. My mum is alive but tired, but the baby was nothing short of miracle.

Eight months and he is very healthy. I haven’t seen him yet since both my mum and the baby were taken to a room to rest. Dad and I would be able to see them once they've settled inside.

My heart is beating rapidly as my new dad and I made our way to the room after fixing up the papers. My dad wouldn’t tell me my baby brother's name, which he and my mom have decided weeks before the sudden labour, until I’ve seen my brother for myself. He told me he wanted to formally introduce me to him so I didn’t complain.

When we entered my mum’s room, I noticed my mum looked extremely tired but nevertheless, happy. She was holding my baby brother in her arms and my eyes beamed at the sight. I couldn’t see him very well since he was carefully cradled by a clean white blanket. My new dad led me towards the foot of the bed, coming closer to my mum to pick up the baby into his arms.

“Arthur,” the deep baritone of my new father’s voice started, walking towards me. “I want you to meet your little brother.”

I waited until he went down on his knees to level out our heights, finally letting me catch a glimpse of my sibling.

I could feel hot tears swell up in my tear ducts as my new dad let me hold the bundle of life into my arms.

The baby, my baby brother, looked up with the same blue eyes I have known in my previous life, sapphire blue eyes that used to look at me with adoration, as if I was the only thing that mattered in his world.

Now it looked at me with all the confusion in the world.

‘I don’t want to live this life anymore… Please let all this be one stupid dream,’ I had thought, feeling my arms wrap securely around the baby in my arms. My new dad seemed to have processed my tears as ones of happiness and he showed a wide grin.

“Arthur, I want you to meet your little brother, Alfred F. Jones.”

 


End file.
